


whiskey-wasted and beautiful

by bradleymartin



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Drunk Simon, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Insecure Simon Lewis, M/M, blatantly ignoring season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 22:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11068185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bradleymartin/pseuds/bradleymartin
Summary: “I love you,” Simon repeats — both fury and disappointment in his tone. His words are still a little slurred, but they cut right through Raphael. “Why do you never say anything? Why do you get to be Mr. Cool Guy Han Solo and just nod or change the subject? It’s not fair.”Raphael wracks his brain to think of a response. “Is that why you’re drunk?”Simon frowns and slouches down in the bed. “That’s called ‘changing the subject.’”





	whiskey-wasted and beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Charli XCX's SuperLove

“How did this happen?” Raphael snaps.

“Pretty much the traditional way.” Magnus’s voice is light and airy in a way that has Raphael sending a quick but deadly glare at him.

“ _Traditional,_ ” he scoffs. “We’re vampires — we don’t get _drunk_.” Raphael gestures to Simon, who looks practically comatose, just lying on the couch. Raphael is relieved, if nothing else, that they’re in one of the secret rooms of Pandemonium; even the _echo_ of thumping bass from the main part of the club is giving him a headache.

“Just a little alcohol-infused blood. Don’t act like you didn’t get drunk with me when you first met your fledgling — crying about _Clary Fairchild_ and _straight boys_.”

Raphael blinks at the reminder and tries not to get too caught up in the memory. After a tense second, he clears his throat and says in the most calm voice he can manage, “I didn’t _cry—_ ”

“I have photographic evidence,” Magnus interrupts, pulling out his phone.

Despite the fact that it was more than two years ago, Raphael has no doubt that he could produce any needed evidence in far too short of a time. One of the disadvantages of befriending a warlock. “Nevermind,” Raphael snaps. “What happened to _Simon_?”

Magnus waves his hand regally and walks to the other side of the room. Raphael teeters for a minute, not wanting to leave Simon alone but knowing he’ll get better results if he can yell at Magnus from as close up as possible. He leans against the back of the couch and stays put, glancing down at the sleeping — hopefully? — Simon. Just as he starts contemplating exactly what to say, Magnus says, “He came tearing in here, asking for a drink. What was I supposed to do? I told the bartender to give him whatever he wants. Next thing I know, he’s ordering his third drink, which was, and I quote, ‘double the alcohol, half the blood.’ Which, by my calculations, makes that four times as strong as intended.”

Raphael’s eyes narrow. “Then what?” he growls.

“About an hour after crying to Miss Fairchild, she ran off to go make out with Jace somewhere. Then your little boyfriend dragged me in here. And now here we are.” He’s examining his nails a little too carefully, and when Raphael is silent for several seconds, he looks up with a too-innocent half-smile. “That poor boy has it _bad_ for you. And, look, I called you — that has to count for something. I might own this club but I don’t personally ensure that every single customer  is the correct level of drunk so as not to piss off their significant other.”

Raphael sighs and looks down at Simon. He’s never seen Simon like this before — drunk to the point of looking utterly _unkempt_ — wild hair, an undone jacket, a black smudge on his cheek. Raphael leans down and runs his fingers through that mess of hair, and Simon stirs. He waits anxiously for a moment, but Simon relaxes again. “Why did he do it?” Raphael asks Magnus.

“I guess you’ll have to ask him.”

Raphael’s fingers don’t stop combing through Simon’s hair as he looks up at Magnus. “Did he talk about me?”

Magnus just shrugs, but his face says it all.

Raphael groans and looks back at Simon. His eyes open slowly, and it seems to take him a moment to realize what he’s looking at. _“Raphael?”_ he exclaims. He lurches up, then immediately looks a little queasy. He also looks a little _guilty_. But his hands reach out, one rubbing Raphael’s hip in a way that’s a little too intimate considering their present company, and the other grips on Raphael’s hand like a lifeline.

“Simon,” he sighs.

“I didn’t know you went out clubbing.” Suddenly there’s a mega-watt smile on his face that at one point would’ve fucked Raphael up for days. As it is, he’s still dazed for a second too long. Simon crawls up onto the couch so that he’s kneeling on it, stomach braced against the back of the couch right where Raphael is standing. Raphael suddenly wonders how many people have had sex in this room, and he doesn’t like how high that number must be.

“Let’s _dance_ ,” Simon suddenly insists.

“Can you _stand_?” Raphael asks. He hears Magnus snort behind them. Raphael spares a glance back at him — Magnus has the decency to be at least pretending to examine his phone, but he’s leaning against a wall as if he’s getting comfortable to watch the showdown.

“Duh.” The eloquence of that syllable is belied by him trying and failing to stand up. He makes it to his feet, but then immediately collapses back down. He stares at the wall with a bewildered expression on his face. Raphael sighs, smiling in spite of himself, and walks around to stand in front of Simon. “Let me try again,” Simon insists, but Raphael braces his hands against his thighs. Simon looks down at his hands and back up to his face, frowning. “ _Raphael_.”

“I think it’s time to go home.”

Simon’s hands go to either side of Raphael’s face. His fingers trail over his skin, and his eyes flicker up and down his body. “But I want to _dance_ with you,” he says in a low, rough voice that almost has Raphael melting and giving in right that second.

“And I just want to get you home alive.”

“We’re immortal. We have, like, _eternity_ to dance on that damn dance floor.”

“Still,” Raphael manages to breathe as Simon gets closer and closer, finally pressing their lips together. Raphael gives in almost immediately — always, as always, weak to Simon. He lets their kiss continue at least ten seconds too long before he pulls himself away.

“ _Raph_ ,” Simon whines, hands trailing down to the collar of Raphael’s suit.

“Can you create a portal for us?” Raphael asks a little louder. He takes a second to make eye contact with Magnus, not wanting to see the look on his face after witnessing that kiss. It’ll take years to live that down. When he finally looks up, Magnus is nodding and smirking. Suddenly there’s a portal a few feet away from them. Raphael eyes it warily before turning the same expression back to Simon. “All right,” he says more to himself than anyone else in the room. Suddenly he’s hooked one arm under Simon’s legs and the other around his back, and he’s holding Simon up. More gracefully than he would’ve imagined.

Simon looks utterly shocked for a minute before latching his arms around Raphael’s neck. “Seriously?” he whispers in Raphael’s ear.

“We’re going to portal back to the hotel. So think about our bedroom.” Simon’s expression is a little distracted, so after a minute, Raphael asks sharply, “What are you thinking about?”

“How hot you look.” There’s that grin back on his face, then he nuzzles into Raphael’s neck. His fangs drag a little against Raphael’s skin, and it’s all Raphael can do to keep standing.

“Have fun,” Magnus says, laughing uproariously now.

“Come on, Simon. What are you thinking about?” Raphael asks Simon again.

“Fine,” he says petulantly, “Our bedroom.”

Raphael walks through the portal.

-

Raphael gently drops Simon onto the bed. He covers him up with the blanket, standing over him for a minute as Simon curls up onto a ball and turns onto his side. “I love you,” comes his muffled voice, obscured by the blankets pulled halfway over his face.

Raphael freezes. It isn’t the first time Simon has said it, but — like every other time — he can’t say anything. The silent seconds slip by as Raphael waits for an argument to start, and after a minute or two of silence, he exhales quietly. He slides off his jacket and hangs it up, but by the time he turns back to Simon, he’s sitting up in bed, glaring at him furiously.

“I _love_ you,” Simon repeats — both fury and disappointment in his tone. His words are still a little slurred, but they cut right through Raphael. “Why do you never say anything? Why do you get to be Mr. Cool Guy Han Solo and just fucking nod or change the subject? It’s not _fair_.”

Raphael wracks his brain to think of a response. “Is that why you’re drunk?”

He frowns and slouches down in the bed. “That’s called ‘changing the subject’.” Raphael just raises his eyebrows at him, so he answers, “Yes.”

Raphael shakes his head and walks over to Simon, who’s now back to lying down in the bed. There’s still petulance in his face, and Raphael doesn’t blame him for that. “We can talk about it in the morning,” he says, leaning down and kissing Simon’s forehead. Before he can pull back, Simon grabs the back of his head. Raphael expects to be pulled down for a kiss, but Simon just runs his fingers through his hair and then shuts his eyes.

-

The next morning, Simon plays video games all day, downing fresh blood every hour. At least, that’s what Raphael _hears._ Since he left the bedroom before Simon woke up — extricating himself, as always, from Simon’s arm wrapped around his waist. It was a comforting feeling, but he knew he didn’t deserve to stay in Simon’s warmth when he’s done nothing to earn it.

Raphael wants to finally have that very necessary conversation, but — though he would never admit it aloud — he’s a bit nervous about it. He makes excuse after excuse to not go up to their room and talk to Simon — he has _work_ , he has _meetings_. Sometimes he feels like a weak man when it comes to Simon, but he knows that it’s simply because Simon is his only weakness.

By the time he finally makes it back to their bedroom, Simon is long gone. There’s a note on the bed that just says: _Roof_.

When Raphael gets there, Simon is sitting on the edge of the roof, gazing out at the skyline. Raphael joins him, sitting silently next to him. He presses his hand on top of Simon’s, but Simon slips away. There’s a stab of pain in Raphael’s heart, but Simon’s blank face isn’t giving anything away.

“I used to go to Pandemonium,” Raphael says slowly. “Just like you did last night. I’d go and get _wasted_.”

That doesn’t do anything to soften Simon’s ice-cold expression, but Raphael doesn’t miss how Simon’s eyes flicker to his for just a second.

“It all started about two years ago,” he continues, unprompted. He watches carefully out of the corner of his eye as Simon blinks and looks at him. “I had a crush on a fledgling who was _very_ in love with a certain ginger.” Simon’s mouth is wide open now. “I’ve _always_ wanted you, Simon. I know I’m not very good at telling you how I feel, but I really do _love_ you. I’m sorry that I’ve made you doubt that.”

Simon turns towards him, eyes wide. “Then why haven’t you said it _before_?”

He wavers for a minute, being embarrassed to admit his true feelings. “I guess a part of me kept expecting you to get tired of me,” he says softly.

Simon lets out a laugh. Raphael frowns, about to retort, but Simon leans in and kisses him. Raphael wraps his arms around Simon’s neck, pulling him even closer. Simon deepens the kiss, and Raphael tries to keep himself from getting too swept up in Simon — considering they’re literally sitting on the edge of the roof. They might be immortal, but it would still _hurt_. But it gets harder and harder to think of any potential consequences when Simon runs his fangs against the inside of Raphael’s lip.

Raphael groans and pulls back. Meanwhile, Simon is grinning cheekily — like he knows exactly how to crumble Raphael’s iron willpower that somehow always seems to be paper-thin only around Simon.

“I don’t really think you should worry about that,” Simon adds, “because you’re going to be stuck with me for a while. Like, _forever_.”

Raphael lets out a laugh and kisses him again.

“Did you really, like, _princess_ -carry me last night?” Simon asks, laughing.

“Anything for you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Please see my (better & longer) Saphael soulmate AU, Unwritten, if you're looking for more Saphael](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7215118/chapters/16373890)
> 
> Thank you for reading! I've fallen out of love with the show after the departure of Ed Decter (i.e. season 2), so this is probably my last Shadowhunters fic. It's been sitting on my computer for a long time, so I figured it was time to post it. 
> 
> (If you're into Yuri!!! on Ice, that's my current fandom, so please see my other works)
> 
> I very much loved Saphael and this show, and I was sad to see it go downhill. Thank you so much for reading my works, especially if you've stuck with me since Unwritten!


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